


one alone

by nirvhannahcornell (josiebelladonna)



Category: Alice in Chains, Bandom
Genre: Coffee Shops, F/M, Fluff, Late Night Conversations, Light-Hearted, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:20:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24119422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/josiebelladonna/pseuds/nirvhannahcornell
Summary: While on tour with his new band Alice in Chains, Will heads out for a cup of coffee when that cute waitress catches his eye.An experiment and perhaps a preview of what's to come.
Relationships: William DuVall/Original Female Character





	one alone

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by—of all things in the world—a YouTube comment. I was watching an interview with Joey and I just so happened to look down in the comment section and there was a guy talking about how he got to know Joey when he would have late night coffee in this little town near Syracuse called Camillus.
> 
> Just testing the waters here because there's like no Will writings to go about (it won't kill ya to expand your horizons ya'll): I'm also kind of up to my eyeballs in other things so if anything multi-chapter comes out of this, it'll be a ways off.

_May, 2006_.

“I'm gonna be headed out to this little cafe right here,” I told Jerry when he slung his towel over his shoulder. He gave his soft blond hair a toss and nodded at me in response.

“Alright, I'm gonna jump in the shower here,” he said back to me. “And no, I won't try to slip.”

I rolled my eyes at that, but I also laughed at it. I had known Jerry for a little more than five years at this point, when Comes With the Fall toured with him for _Degradation Trip_ , and I was still trying to acquaint myself with his sense of humor. It made sense especially with Layne having died so recently: sometimes all you have to do is laugh at shit to ease some of the pressure on the pain. Sometimes all that's all it takes to erase the agony. I would know, too, having been born in D.C. and grown up in the real nitty gritty punk rock side of Atlanta. It's hard being a black boy, and it's even harder being a black boy wanting to play guitar like one of the Stooges. You're gonna learn to laugh at your own misfortune and carry it with a bit of swag at that, too.

I put on my leather jacket even though it was a rather mild evening there in Pasadena, and I made sure I kept my sunglasses tucked away in my pocket. They were a little expensive and I had no time to dawdle at that; so when Jerry ducked into the bathroom, I made my way outside of the hotel room and into the beckoning twilight. We stayed in the hotel near the freeway and the venue: Jerry and I shared a room at the far end, closest to the street, and around the corner from the pool, while Sean and Mike took the room right upstairs from us. Sean assured us they wouldn't tap dance or run around in their Doc Martens when we were least expecting it.

The cafe wasn't much, just a stubby little building that looked as though it had been someone's house at one point. When the four of us drove in here, I was positive the place had those little throw pillows in the front bay windows and it'd smell like incense and peppermints. But when I stepped aside, I was greeted by that lush aroma of fresh coffee and a bunch of little tables throughout the floor. On the far side of the room stood one of those big glass display cases bearing witness to all manner of things from muffins to cake pops to danishes.

I took my seat at the table next to one of the bay windows, the one tucked behind the nook next to the front door. I could feel their eyes were watching me, a black man in a coffee house in downtown Pasadena, but I was there.

She moseyed up next to me with a beaming smile upon her face and a red apron tied about her thick waist. She wore a little black blouse to go with it, and the neckline dipped down to show off a bit more of her chest: she also had a thick head of soft looking jet black hair tied behind her head in a taut ponytail. Rather risque for a waitress at a place such as this.

“What can I get for you?” she greeted me with a soft voice, so soft it reminded me of a stream of water tinkling down a slope of rocks.

“Uh, just a cup of coffee and maybe one of those muffins over there.”

“Which one?”

I paused. I knew what she was thinking as she gazed right into my brown eyes.

“Chocolate,” I replied. She showed me a smirk before she turned away and headed on over to the glass to fetch one of those muffins and pour me a cup of joe. I watched her the whole entire time and phased out everyone else in the room. I stretched out my arms before me and curled my fingers into the palms of my hands.

She returned to me with a soft smile upon her face. She set the muffin and the off white bone china mug down before me; she reached into the front pocket of her apron for some packets of creamer.

“Thank you,” I told her; I couldn't resist the smile on my face, either. She ran her tongue along her bottom lip and set one hand down on the side of the table; she set her other hand on her hip.

“Are you new around here?” she kindly asked me.

“I'm actually on tour,” I told her.

“Oh, yeah? You're a funky kinda guy.”

“Rock n' roll, actually. I used to play punk back East in Atlanta. The band I'm with now is gonna be going to Europe in a week and a half.”

“Better drink up that coffee then.” She kept the smile plastered on her face. “What's your name?”

“William. But everyone calls me Will.”

“Henrietta,” she said with an outstretching of her hand. “But I go by Etta.”

“Like Etta James!” I declared.

“Exactly! I also go by Wren.”

“Why?” I couldn't help but laugh at that.

“It's my middle name, doll,” she assured me. “Henrietta Wren.” Another person strode into the cafe right then, and she lunged for them to help them out. I was alone there with my muffin and my coffee. The muffin was fresh and soft on the inside, and the chocolate chips felt smooth: the coffee washed it down to the perfect spot. The only thing to make it better was if I had this at around midnight, like after the show.

At one point, she ambled past me and I thought of something.

“Is there a phone in here?” I asked her.

“A phone? What for?”

“I have to call my mom for Mother's Day. Or I can just wait 'til tomorrow.”

“Now, if you did that, you'd be the boy who forgot Mother's Day,” she pointed out.

“True.”

“I don't think so, though. I haven't seen a payphone for about three years, to be honest…” Her voice trailed off as she went off to help someone else. I finished the muffin and the cup of coffee within time and left a generous tip for Etta.

I had walked out of there and I was about to cross the street, back to the hotel when some noise behind me stopped me right in my tracks. I stood there on the sidewalk when I heard it again.

“Will?” Etta called after me. I turned around to find her running up towards me. She clutched something in her hand.

“What'chu got there?” I asked her when she came within earshot.

“You dropped these,” she replied as she held up my sunglasses for me.

“Oh, thank you,” I said to her. She never erased her smile from her face.

“When's your show?” she asked me.

“Tomorrow at eight, at the Levitt Pavilion. Near the freeway. Heart's opening for us.”

“How 'bout you and I meet after the show?”

“Like—on a date?” I followed along, to which she shrugged in response.

“Not necessarily. I don't have a ticket, though, and I don't feel like vouching for the scalpers.”

“You don't wanna buy from them anyways,” I assured her. “I'll see if I can get you in backstage, though. And by the way—” I pointed across the street. “—that's my hotel over there.”

“So if I have a question, I can always make my way over there?” she said.

“Absolutely. I'm in the last room at the end there. So come knock on the door if you wanna.”

“Gladly.”

Even in the dim light, I noticed her wink at me. I had a good feeling about this little Etta girl with her cherry lips and the matching apron around her waist.

I was eager to tell Jerry about her once I returned to the room.


End file.
